


love (with tongues of fire)

by schmetterlinq



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 04:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmetterlinq/pseuds/schmetterlinq
Summary: Sehun would carry Junmyeon across the whole world if Junmyeon asked. (Junmyeon needs to work out his feelings about his sexuality, and Sehun needs to take him to California.)





	love (with tongues of fire)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anonymousloris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousloris/gifts).



> disclaimer: none of this ever happened, it’s all fictional, I own nobody.  
> warnings: homophobia and internalised homophobia; m/m smut; language.
> 
> prompt: I want to rob lumber mills and hospitals with you and just bewilder the hell out of people the way love should.” URL: http://www.asofterworld2.com/index.php?id=490
> 
> author’s note: Dear prompter, this what your prompt inspired me to write, but it is absolutely certainly nothing like what you had in mind when you made this prompt. Sorry about that. I hope you enjoy it anyway!
> 
> Thank you to the mods for running this fest (and for being patient with me when I got the deadlines mixed up!!)
> 
> I’ve always wanted to write something about Sehun taking care of Junmyeon, which I think isn’t really explored a lot in in the seho dynamic, but Junmyeon always says Sehun is such a great support to him and I think it’s really cute. So a lot of this fic came from me wanting to write about that. Hopefully it doesn’t feel ooc.
> 
> This fic is set in America, but I’m British, and I’ve actually never even been to most of the places mentioned here. So if any of the language sounds off or I get any of the geography wrong, please forgive me.
> 
> Title from ‘The Power of Love’ - Gabrielle Aplin
> 
>  
> 
> Edit as of 2018: this fic was written and posted in summer 2017, and it features Jonghyun. I considered going back and re-writing it, in case it seemed insensitive to anyone. In the end I decided to leave it as it was originally, because it would have meant making major changes, and honestly I didn't want to write Jonghyun out. This is an AU after all, and so in this AU, Jonghyun is here.

Sehun first meets Junmyeon during a snow storm.

It’s January, a bitterly cold beginning to the new year. The steel grey clouds have loomed heavy in the sky since the morning, and finally open that night, hundreds of thousands of soft flakes spilling into the air.

Sehun is practically skiing along the paths back to his dorms, the snow deeper at his feet every second, scarf pulled up over his nose.

By the time he makes it to the corner of his block, his toes are numb in his soaked Converse. He slows to a walk, clutching his armful of text books, and finally, finally makes it to the entrance of the dorms. His fingers are so cold that he fumbles in his pocket to unlock the door, cursing through the damp material of his scarf.

“Forgot your key?” says a voice at his shoulder.

Sehun turns.

The boy beside him is about a head shorter than he is, bundled up in a thick coat with a fake fur trimming round the hood. The hood is up, but as Sehun watches, the boy pushes it back and down, revealing soft cheeks flushed pink, large dark eyes flecked by elegantly long lashes, and dark brown hair lightly dusted with snow.

For a few moments, Sehun completely forgets the freezing weather, the icy wind whipping the snow around them and the chill of his wet clothes. The boy at his side is one of the most handsome people he has ever seen, and although he opens his mouth to speak, no words come out.

It would be uncomfortable, but for the fact that the other boy is also gazing straight back at him, seemingly just as entranced.

A sudden much stronger gust of wind rattles the door in its frame, and sends a flurry of snow pouring from the roof above them onto the ground, to land with a soft _thlump_ by their feet.

It shakes them both out of their silence, and they step apart, both apologising quietly.

The other boy quickly produces his key and unlocks the door, allowing them both to finally escape into the hall of the dorms, the silence and still air a welcome respite from the storm outside.

The boy pushes the door closed behind them against the bad weather — and then looks back up at Sehun (and it’s somehow oh so charming that there is such a difference in their heights, he has to look up at Sehun) and says, with a nod outside, “What a welcome back to school, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Sehun says, distantly.

“You lived in here before?” the boy asks.

“Oh, yeah, I was here last semester. You weren’t?”

“I just transferred,” says the boy. He sticks out his hand, surprising Sehun a little with the formal gesture. “I’m Junmyeon.”

Sehun takes his hand. As their fingers lock around each other, the touch sends tiny fizzes of heat all up Sehun’s arm, into his chest, and up into his head like champagne bubbles.

“Sehun,” he says. “I'm Sehun.”

 

*

 

A few days later, there’s a soft, polite tap on Sehun’s door.

Sehun has his own room this year. It was supposed to be a double, but his room mate moved off campus quickly to be with a girlfriend, and nobody else had claimed the place.

Sehun isn’t sure who he’s expecting when he answers, but it certainly isn’t Junmyeon. Junmyeon — who Sehun would be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about, although they’d only interacted for a minute at most; thinking about Junmyeon’s warm hand, his pink cheeks, the snow in his hair — is wearing a very, very soft-looking sweater that’s slightly too long in the arms. He’s holding a pile of books. “Hi, Sehun.”

Once again, Junmyeon has to look up slightly into Sehun’s face, and Sehun’s heart drums in his chest.

“Hey.” Sehun can’t deny he’s surprised to see Junmyeon. He hadn’t even realised Junmyeon knew which room he lived in. He supposes he must have remembered which one Sehun had gone into when they’d said goodbye. He wonders, and hopes.

“I hope this isn’t a bad time,” Junmyeon says. His hair is falling in his eyes, and he doesn’t have a free hand to brush it away.

“Nah.” Sehun is leaning against the door frame, hoping against hope he looks casual, praying there aren’t any stains on his pyjama pants. “Just doing homework.”

“Me, too,” Junmyeon says. “Or rather, I was — there are some boys down my corridor who, uh, keep playing the loudest music —”

“Are you on the third floor?” Sehun asks.

Junmyeon nods, and Sehun sighs sympathetically. “They put a lot of freshmen on that floor.”

“Well, I tried asking them to keep it down earlier this week, and they were very apologetic but they’re doing it again today, and —”

“You can come study in my room,” Sehun blurts. “If you want,” he adds hastily, embarrassed, feeling blood rush to his face.

Is it his imagination, or is Junmyeon going pink too? It must just be his face. He was pink when they met for the first time in the snow storm.

“Yes, I — I have to admit I was hoping —”

“Sure, sure; come in!” Sehun ushers Junmyeon inside, flustered. Junmyeon had come here specifically to study in his room? Sehun hopes and hopes.

Junmyeon heads inside, and Sehun closes the door and follows him, eyes darting around the room frantically, searching for any forgotten trash or — god forbid — discarded socks or underwear he might have dropped. Fortunately, the room is relatively clean, although Sehun’s bed isn’t made, and all of a sudden, Sehun’s sheets seem like a very intimate thing for Junmyeon to see. He darts round Junmyeon and tugs the comforter up to the pillows.

“I don’t have a room mate here,” Sehun says, facing Junmyeon, who is looking at him expectantly. “I did but he moved out and they never put anyone else in — so you can just use the other desk, I guess. If you like.”

“That would be perfect,” Junmyeon says. His voice is lilting and gentle. “Thank you, Sehun.”

“No problem.” Sehun watches awkwardly as Junmyeon puts his books on the spare desk and sits.

Sehun sits too. He has his own desk chair for his desk, and he feels bad that Junmyeon has to sit on the hard, wooden chair provided by the college, but Junmyeon doesn’t mention it. He’s spreading out his books, thoughtfully.

“What are you studying?” Sehun asks, desperate to avoid an awkward silence. “This is chemistry,” Junmyeon says, turning round on the chair to look at him. “I’m pre-med.”

“Whoa,” Sehun says. “That must be — that must be tough.”

“I suppose.” Junmyeon sounds as though he’s never thought about it. “My father’s a doctor, so.” He doesn’t finish the sentence; he doesn’t seem to think it needs finishing. “What about you, Sehun?”

“I — dance,” Sehun says, his ears burning. He loves his dance classes; he’s never had any doubts about his major before, in spite of people telling him sarcastically he’ll never get a job. But in front of Junmyeon, who is clearly so smart, he feels ridiculous.

To his surprise, however, Junmyeon smiles. To Sehun’s delight his smile reveals large, slightly crooked front teeth that stick ever so slightly over Junmyeon’s lower lip.

“I wanted to be a singer when I was younger,” Junmyeon says.

“You did?”

“I was in the choir at my high school,” Junmyeon tells him. “We even toured round the churches in my area. I would have gone to school for that myself, I think, if I hadn’t — hadn’t been going to be a doctor.”

 _A singer and going to be a doctor_ , Sehun thinks. _What are you doing, Oh Sehun? What about you could possibly interest this guy?_ But at the same time, Junmyeon’s wistful smile is making his heart flip, and his fingers are peeking so sweetly out of his sweater sleeves, and something about the way Junmyeon said “if I hadn’t been going to be a doctor” made Sehun’s chest ache, and already he loves hearing Junmyeon talk, about everything.

“Do you sing, Sehun?”

“Oh. No. I could never sing. I just dance and, uh, choreograph. I —”

“Do you really?” Junmyeon actually looks impressed, and Sehun’s stomach knots.

“Yeah. I’m taking a class on choreography this semester. I’m going to focus on choreographing to movie soundtracks —”

Junmyeon laughs, sounding a little disbelieving. “When I was younger my brother used to tease me because all I’d listen to were film soundtracks.”

“Really.”

“Yes! I love how they can make you feel as though you’re watching the movie! I listened to the _Star Wars_ soundtrack so many times I wore out my CDs and had to buy new ones.”

“I’m thinking of choreographing something to the _Kill Bill_ soundtrack this semester,” Sehun says.

Junmyeon chuckles. “Well, my taste in film is probably a bit less — mature,” he says. “Will you throw me out of your room if I confess one of my favourite soundtracks is _Titanic_?”

Sehun wants to laugh out loud. Junmyeon is — perfect.

 

Every day for the next week, Junmyeon comes to Sehun’s room in the afternoon to study. He starts leaving his heavier text books there, spread out all over each other on the spare desk. Junmyeon, in spite of how neat he looks in person, is surprisingly messy. He’s always losing one book under a heap of others.

Sehun takes to straightening his things for him after he leaves for the night, stacking things up more neatly.

Having Junmyeon around is intoxicating, and Sehun can’t get enough of it. Even when they’re just studying in companionable silence, Sehun’s chest and stomach feel warm just hearing the sounds of Junmyeon turning the pages of his book, his pen scratching over the paper as he makes notes.

Sehun’s other friends are texting him asking where he is, if he’s okay, because they haven’t seen him all week. Sehun would feel bad, but he’s too happy spending his free time with Junmyeon.

One Saturday night — just over two weeks since Sehun first met Junmyeon, although it’s starting to feel like he’s known the other boy for years — Sehun’s friends Chanyeol and Baekhyun show up at his dorm, and yell through the door that they’re going to drag him out because he’s turning into a recluse.

Sehun lets them in, mostly because he thinks they’re going to disturb his entire floor. Junmyeon is there, and so Baekhyun and Chanyeol decide Junmyeon can come out with them, too.

Sehun is a nervous wreck by the time they reach the bar. He’s been able to deal with Junmyeon — with how much he likes Junmyeon — when they’re by themselves in Sehun’s room. It feels, just about, manageable there, when things are quiet and relaxed and Sehun’s surrounded by his own things. But Sehun has no idea how he’ll cope with how he feels in unfamiliar territory, with other people around, with alcohol involved.

He also has no idea what Junmyeon is going to do. If he’ll be any different. When Junmyeon came over on Friday, he’d brought Sehun bubble tea, and when Chanyeol and Baekhyun showed up, he and Junmyeon were sitting on Sehun’s bed watching _Kingsman_ , and Sehun was hoping hoping hoping as Junmyeon’s thigh pressed snugly against his own. He was almost sure Junmyeon wanted something to happen. Now he feels completely thrown off course, like a ship in a sudden squall.

More than anything, he doesn’t want this to happen in the wrong way. He wants it to be perfect. It’s ridiculous but Junmyeon is — too important.

Junmyeon doesn’t appear to share any of Sehun’s worries. He’s smiling, his cheeks scrunched up and actually seeming to shine in the street lights. His eyes are happy half-moons, and he lets out his adorable high-pitched laugh at something Baekhyun says. Sehun’s whole body hurts.

They squash into a table at the bar, and Junmyeon sits right next to Sehun, body half turned into Sehun’s. Sehun is introducing Junmyeon to everybody, and whenever he says Junmyeon is his friend, he gets suspicious looks. Clearly people think they’re more, and Sehun wants wants wants to be more, but Junmyeon — what does Junmyeon want?

Junmyeon answers his question much quicker than Sehun expects.

They stay at the bar for a few hours, and a couple of drinks turns into three turns into five, and Sehun is feeling pleasantly buzzed, just a little out of it, as though he’s looking at everything through a very finely-woven veil.

He’s still hyper aware of Junmyeon, who hasn’t moved from his seat at Sehun’s side all night, but the alcohol is taking the edge off his nerves. Junmyeon seems to have fit right in with Sehun’s friends, and is chatting away as though he’s known them all for years, but he hasn’t moved from his seat at Junmyeon’s side.

As time passes, and people begin to drift away, citing early starts the next morning or another party to go to or boyfriends or girlfriends waiting at home, Junmyeon turns to Sehun. “You ready to go?”

Sehun nods. He feels a little dazed. He wonders afterwards if he knew what was going to happen.

They say goodbye to everyone still there, and head out into the night. It hasn’t snowed against since the night they met, but it’s still cold enough for their breath to stand out in the air before them.

Junmyeon takes Sehun by the wrist, and then slides his fingers down to hold Sehun’s hand.

They reach the dorm. Sehun has got to the point of pretending this isn’t happening, because it’s easier to do that than overthink.

Junmyeon pulls out his key card and holds it up to Sehun with a smile, clearly thinking of the night they met each other. He doesn’t seem that drunk, Sehun thinks, although his cheeks are flushed. Then again, Junmyeon cheeks are often flushed. But when Junmyeon crowds him up against the door of his room, Sehun notices Junmyeon’s pupils are blown, and his eyes ever so slightly unfocused.

“Can I kiss you, Sehun?” Junmyeon asks, his voice barely louder than a sigh.

Sehun can’t speak, so he just nods.

Junmyeon kisses the way he does his school work — carefully, thoroughly. His lips — he always keeps lip balm with him, Sehun thinks — his lips are very soft, and his front teeth are large enough that they knock against Sehun’s bottom lip as Sehun kisses back.

Sehun frames Junmyeon’s face with his hands, wanting to bring Junmyeon as close as he can, hold him, cradle him.

Junmyeon tastes of red wine, and as his hands slip around Sehun’s waist, Sehun’s whole body shudders.

Sehun manages to pull away long enough to unlock the door, and then they spill into the dark room and down into Sehun’s bed.

Junmyeon is a year older, Sehun has learned over the past two weeks, but he’s so — god, he’s so small, that Sehun’s entire body covers him like a blanket.

Sehun lifts Junmyeon’s face up again, bringing their lips together, thinking he could stay wrapped around Junmyeon forever.

One of Junmyeon’s legs slides between Sehun’s. He's breathing heavily against Sehun’s mouth. Sehun is already completely hard, overwhelmed.

“Can we —” Junmyeon struggles to say. He’s seemed completely in control all night, but suddenly he seems very nervous. “Can we just —?”

Sehun understands. He nods against Junmyeon’s face.

Junmyeon reaches into Sehun’s pants, rubs the palm of his hand over Sehun’s dick in his underwear, and oh god, it’s been far too long since Sehun’s been with anyone, and this is more intense than all his past hook-ups put together, Junmyeon’s familiar breathing in his ear, his warm scent, the feel of his lips and teeth.

Junmyeon’s hand is soft, anxious, as he reaches into Sehun’s underwear and takes hold of him.

“Are you —? Is this —? Tell me if —” Junmyeon pleads.

“It’s good, it’s good, it’s good,” Sehun fumbles.

Junmyeon starts jerking him off, almost frantically, too fast. Sehun has to reach down to steady his hand. He kisses Junmyeon as he does, trying to reassure him, because Junmyeon still seems so worried, and it makes Sehun ache; he’s so happy and he wants Junmyeon to be happy too, to feel secure, to feel safe the way Sehun himself does with Junmyeon.

Junmyeon gets a slower, steadier rhythm going, and Sehun tries to kiss him, fails because he’s struggling to breathe as it is, ends up with his face pressed against Junmyeon’s neck, feeling Junmyeon’s pulse rapid against his cheek. He can feel Junmyeon’s hot, solid body underneath him, and Junmyeon’s own hardness against his thigh, Junmyeon pants and then moans in his ear, as though just touching Sehun is getting him off too, and Sehun comes.

He reaches down and stills Junmyeon’s hand, feeling slightly stunned. “Do you want me to —?”

“If you want to,” Junmyeon gasps.

When Sehun cups his face, he can feel Junmyeon is damp with sweat, his hair clinging to his skin. He suddenly realises — Junmyeon hasn’t done this before. Whether it’s his first time with another man, or altogether, he isn’t sure, but the thought that Junmyeon is so nervous but still wants to do this so much, with him, makes Sehun feel like his heart may burst.

He feels more confident, less desperate, now that he’s come himself, and he’s had enough experience with guys to undo Junmyeon’s jeans fairly calmly, and pull him out of his pants and boxers.

Junmyeon’s dick is a little shorter than Sehun’s, but thicker, and Sehun immediately thinks about how it would feel inside him and goes hot all over, his own dick pulsing all over again.

Junmyeon’s mouth is hanging open, and he’s gazing at Sehun as though Sehun is a brilliant full moon, and god, Sehun can’t take it, can’t take it, has to kiss Junmyeon so he can close his eyes and not have to deal with that expression on Junmyeon’s face.

He starts stroking Junmyeon’s dick, and after a few seconds Junmyeon spreads his legs wider, canting his hips up towards Sehun, his breathing coming harder and harder.

Sehun keeps going, making sure to stroke over the head, rub his thumb along the vein at the back, and Junmyeon moans again and gasps, “Harder — _oh_ —”

Sehun speeds up, grips him tighter, and very quickly Junmyeon moans again and then he’s twitching and trembling against Sehun as he spills into Sehun’s hand.

“Oh, God,” Junmyeon sighs, throwing one hand over his eyes. His breathing is coming so fast, he almost sounds as though he’s in pain.

Sehun brings a hand up to rest against Junmyeon’s cheek and rests his face next to Junmyeon’s, kisses his cheek, presses in close.

 

When Sehun wakes up the next morning, the first thing he thinks is that he forgot to close the curtains the night before. The light in the room is grey, the sun not yet up, but still irritatingly bright.

Sehun opens his eyes, squinting, and is met with the sight of Junmyeon’s bare back, the other boy sitting up on the edge of the bed.

Junmyeon, Sehun had discovered last night, is impressively, surprisingly muscular under his neat button downs and cosy sweaters. Sehun had known Junmyeon liked to go to the gym, but didn’t realise exactly how good the results were.

Sehun reaches out to touch Junmyeon’s back, and Junmyeon turns.

“What time is it?” Sehun asks, rolling onto his side. It must be early, he thinks.

Junmyeon shrugs. His eyes are warm, but he doesn’t smile.

“Are you okay?” Sehun asks, worry creeping in.

Junmyeon presses his lips together, nods, and then sighs. “Last night was —”

“Was it okay?” Sehun asks, suddenly horribly anxious. If Junmyeon hadn’t enjoyed it — if he regretted it —Sehun doesn’t know what he’d do.

“It was — it was amazing, Sehun, and I — my — when I —” Junmyeon struggles, and breaks off.

“What is it?” Sehun asks, sitting up, the blankets pooling at his waist. He reaches out to cradle Junmyeon’s sweet round cheek against one hand. Junmyeon closes his eyes, leans into the touch. Sehun’s heart feels swollen, sore.

“You remember I told you I used to be in my school choir?” he says.

“Yes,” Sehun says, slowly. He suddenly has a feeling he knows exactly where this is going, his stomach tense as though he’s about to go over the tip of a rollercoaster.

“My parents — I mean, I loved singing, of course, but my parents encouraged me to be in the school choir. Because it was church music. They were always pretty religious. My father especially.”

“Junmyeon,” Sehun whispers. His throat hurts.

Junmyeon’s eyes are still closed. “My father’s really proud of me. Really, really proud. My brother wasn’t — I was always the smart one, the one who took after my dad.” Junmyeon’s eyes flicker open at that, and he looks directly at Sehun. “I’m the good son,” he says, with a slightly sour laugh. Compared to Junmyeon’s usual laughter, it’s an ugly sound.

“Junmyeon, I —”

“I’m gay,” Junmyeon says. He sighs heavily. “I’ve only — only told a few people before you. I’ve known since I was in high school. For a long time I told myself I wasn’t — I even spoke to our pastor and he told me I could talk to my parents about going to a camp to make me better —”

“Oh my God, Junmyeon.” Sehun’s hand grips Junmyeon’s hair, horrified. The thought that Junmyeon might have —

“I didn’t,” Junmyeon says hastily. “I didn’t. I was too scared to even bring it up to my parents. I just prayed a lot and hoped I could make it go away.”

Sehun loosens his grip, smoothes his thumb over Junmyeon’s cheek, his hand shaking. Sehun’s own family have always been so supportive of his sexuality. His mother even stopped speaking to her aunts, her last link to her own dead mother, when they made disapproving comments. Of course he knows he’s very lucky, that a lot of people don’t get that, but to actually experience it is completely alien to him.

And Junmyeon — Junmyeon always seems so soft, as soft as the skin on those round cheeks Sehun has sighed over so many times. The thought of teenage Junmyeon in high school, knowing he liked men and terrified of his father’s reaction, considering actually asking to go to a conversion camp, the type of place where kids are usually only sent by force — it makes Sehun want to break down in tears.

He pulls Junmyeon against him, clumsily.

“When I got to college — my old college — that was when I started to realise I couldn’t change,” Junmyeon says, into Sehun’s shoulder. “I was making myself ill. My first year I hardly ever went out because I was so afraid of myself.”

Sehun strokes Junmyeon’s hair.

“My second year — I had a friend in one of my classes. Jonghyun. We talked a lot. He was in the LGBT society and he was so kind to me. I met all his friends and it helped. I started to think I could just — hide it from my father, maybe. There were other people who were out at school but not to their parents. I thought I could do that. Then halfway through my third year, my father decided I was too far away at that school, and he wanted me to transfer back to our state.”

“ _That’s_ why you transferred?” Sehun had assumed, ever since hearing Junmyeon was pre-med, that he’d transferred because their school had a pretty good medical school and Junmyeon was hoping to get in there after he graduated.

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says against Sehun’s collar bone. “I’m a good son.”

Sehun has no idea what to say.

“But I still felt like maybe I could… do stuff at school without him knowing. Jonghyun and my friends from my old school encouraged me a lot. And then —” Junmyeon hesitates. Sehun hears, feels, him swallow. “Then I met this really cute guy.”

For a second, Sehun doesn’t realise what Junmyeon means. Then it dawns on him that Junmyeon is talking about _him_ , and he’s so stunned and it’s so cheesy and so Junmyeon in the middle of all these awful things Junmyeon has been telling him, that he laughs out loud. Junmyeon laughs too, and oh, thank goodness, it's his normal laugh, his normal bright, high-pitched, silly, wonderful laugh.

“That was a really awful line,” Sehun says, smiling.

Junmyeon shrugs and smiles. “It’s true.”

Sehun kisses him, slowly. Junmyeon sighs against him, shudders.

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says, as Sehun starts to lay back into the mattress. “If you — I know not everyone is okay, with being with someone who’s not out to their family or —”

Sehun looks up at him. Junmyeon looks very, deliberately calm, but in his eyes there’s a glint of longing.

“I really like you,” Sehun says. “I really like you so much.”

Junmyeon’s eyes flutter. “I like you so much too, Sehun.”

Sehun pulls Junmyeon in. He can’t be apart from Junmyeon for another second, he feels suddenly — he might crumble.

He kisses Junmyeon: on the mouth, on both his lovely cheeks, on his cute round nose, over both eyelids, across his forehead, down his jaw. He kisses Junmyeon as though he hopes he can kiss the past away.

 

The months pass. The air grows warmer, the snow melts and the grass reappears and the flowers and tiny leaves begin to peek out.

Sehun has never been happier. Junmyeon is a dream, a dream come true. He’s warm, and soft, and sweet, and caring; he brings Sehun bubble tea, and food from the dining hall when Sehun is stuck at the dance studios working on choreography; he rubs Sehun’s head and neck when he’s tired after a long week; he buys Sehun a card when Sehun does well in his mid-terms.

He leaves his books and clothes all over Sehun’s room, and Sehun can’t even get mad at him because Junmyeon tries so hard to be neater for him and is oh so cute when he’s searching frantically for something he’s lost under all the other things he’s discarded. He makes terrible dad jokes that make Sehun groan and roll his eyes, and he has a little collection of Star Wars figurines in his room.

He’s an annoyingly early riser and he genuinely enjoys going to the gym and eating healthily, although he is, as Sehun had discovered when Valentine’s day came around and Junmyeon announced he was going to make them dinner, an absolutely horrible cook.

He doesn’t use social media much at all: his Facebook profile picture is a photo of his family dog, who is named Byul, and who Junmyeon used to dress up in little outfits when he still lived at home — but he loves taking selcas to send to Sehun, adding “Hi~!” or “Have a good day ♡” or just “Sehunieeee” and it always makes Sehun’s heart clench.

Sehun has even met the kids down Junmyeon’s corridor who play loud music, who turned out to be extremely polite and apologetic when Sehun went to ask them to keep it down, and who Junmyeon blushed when Sehun mentioned: “I needed an excuse to come talk to you! It was Jonghyun’s idea!”

On their three month anniversary, a drizzly early April day, Junmyeon leaves a sticky note on Sehun’s laptop. It reads:

Rain  
Raindrops falling  
Three months together  
Emotional tears falling

Junmyeon will walk around campus holding Sehun’s hand proudly, his cheeks positively glowing.

All Sehun’s friends — now also Junmyeon’s friends — tease them fondly. During their Skype calls, which Sehun now often joins, Junmyeon’s old school friend Jonghyun looks at Junmyeon like a mother on her daughter’s wedding day. It makes Sehun feel warm.

Sehun is in love. It’s too early, the relationship is too new, but he knows it, feels it settled in his bones already. Junmyeon has become a part of him so easily. It feels so comfortable, so natural, even though sometimes he feels crazy with it, like he has to run through the whole of campus shouting it, or go out and dance in the pouring rain, or hire a plane to fly a banner declaring it across the sky.

He’s a little afraid to tell Junmyeon, although they tell each other everything, although he’s pretty sure from the way Junmyeon looks at him, touches him, that Junmyeon feels the same, just in case Junmyeon thinks it’s too soon. But quite quickly after he realises he can’t hold it in any more. He blurts it out one night in Junmyeon’s room.

Junmyeon had wanted to be on the bottom that night, which wasn’t something they’d ever done before; Junmyeon had always seemed more comfortable topping, and Sehun had never had a preference, and the sex was amazing anyway so he’d never complained. But then Junmyeon, bright red and breathless, had told Sehun one night he wanted to try the other way, and Sehun was suddenly overwhelmed with nerves, desperate to make it good for Junmyeon, frantic with worry Junmyeon wouldn’t like it, and then, then, when Junmyeon rolled onto his front and propped himself on his knees and let Sehun _see_ him and breathed “I’m ready”, Sehun’s breath stuck in his throat at how intimate, how trusting this really was, that Junmyeon was letting him do this.

And when it was over, when Junmyeon was shuddering back down to earth underneath him, Sehun kissed Junmyeon’s neck and whispered, “I love you.”

Junmyeon craned his head round to look at him. His eyes looked glassy, and he said, “I love you, too.”

 

April turns quickly into May, and soon finals are upon them. Junmyeon is extremely stressed, although he tries not to show it.

Sehun has his own exams to study for of course, but he makes the time to bring Junmyeon hot tea, to remind him to take breaks and to find his glasses under the mess in his room and wear them so his eyes don’t get tired. It isn’t a chore — Sehun wants to do it, feels warm when he does.

They haven’t really talked about what they’re going to do over the summer. They’ll both be going back to their parents’ — Sehun a short plane ride away, Junmyeon about two hours’ drive.

Sehun’s parents know about Junmyeon. Sehun had ‘introduced' them over Skype a few months ago, and when his parents came up to visit recently, they’d taken the two of them out for dinner. Junmyeon had been terribly nervous, ironing his shirt several times and very carefully writing out a thank you card to give them for the meal. It had gone well: Sehun’s mother sent him a text afterwards that simply said, “We love him.” Junmyeon had been exhilarated with the knowledge that he’d actually met a boyfriend’s parents.

Sehun’s parents had told Sehun to bring Junmyeon to stay over the summer, but Sehun had just made vague noises about not knowing Junmyeon’s plans for sure yet. Of course, he did know Junmyeon’s plans, and that was how he knew there was no way Junmyeon would be visiting him over the summer. Junmyeon would be at his parents’ house, working at his summer job at a golf club and visiting his father’s practise for work experience.

Sehun himself has an internship at a dance studio near his parents’ house. It was very prestigious — he’d had to audition against hundreds of other applicants to get it. He had been excited about the summer. But now he has to live with the knowledge that it will be three months away from Junmyeon.

Sehun is trying not to think about it.

 

All too soon their finals have come to an end, and while he’s glad to have his exams over, Sehun has been dreading this, because it means the end of the semester, and having to say goodbye to Junmyeon.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun drag everyone out that weekend, insisting they need to celebrate the end of the year.

Sehun would rather spend time just with Junmyeon, but Junmyeon is smiling so brightly, and looks so cute when he says he wants to go dancing, that Sehun can’t say no.

They’re only an hour into their night out when everything goes to hell.

Sehun is sitting on a bar stool, Junmyeon perched beside him, his legs dangling in the air. The bar is full of exhilarated students celebrating the end of the year, and Sehun is trying — he’s really, really trying — to get into the spirit of things. He’s drinking, and laughing with Chanyeol, and when Baekhyun wants to buy shots he does several, although the alcohol doesn’t do much more than induce a vague feeling of panic.

Junmyeon is laughing, his eyes happy little half-moons, his slightly crooked front teeth sticking out. He looks so gorgeous, and Sehun’s heart hurts, thinking of the long, empty summer months ahead.

Junmyeon’s phone buzzes, and he fishes into his pocket to get it, checks the screen, and then hops neatly off his stool.

Sehun makes a questioning noise at him.

“It’s my dad,” Junmyeon says.

“Is everything okay?” Sehun asks. They don’t really talk about Junmyeon’s father. Or any of his family. Not since Junmyeon first explained everything to Sehun after their first night together. Junmyeon prefers to pretend it doesn’t exist, not to bring his parents into his world at school. Junmyeon’s parents seem content with this as well; Sehun doesn’t think he’s ever known them to phone Junmyeon spontaneously.

“He probably just wants to finalise plans for when I’m coming home on Monday,” Junmyeon says. He doesn’t seem worried, so Sehun gives him a kiss on the cheek (for luck, although he doesn’t tell Junmyeon this) and lets Junmyeon leave the bar to answer outside where it’s quieter.

Chanyeol is looking at Sehun questioningly, but before either of them can say anything, Baekhyun re-appears with a tray of even more shots. Sehun grabs one, more to avoid having to talk than because he actually wants one, and then Chanyeol spots a group of girls heading to the bar, and among them is Taeyeon, who Baekhyun has been trying to hook up with all year.

Chanyeol calls the girls over, and the alcohol must finally be working, because Sehun gets distracted talking to Hyoyeon, another dance major in the year above him, about their end of year performances, and laughing at Baekhyun hopelessly chattering away to Taeyeon and getting nothing but the occasional grunt in response, and it’s only when he glances at his phone that he realises it's been at least twenty minutes since Junmyeon left the bar, and there’s still no sign of his boyfriend.

Sehun’s heart sinks, and he knows, he just knows, that something is wrong.

He slides off his bar stool, telling Chanyeol he’s going to find Junmyeon, although Chanyeol is so drunk by now his eyes aren’t focusing properly, and he doesn’t know if his friend has really understood. He doesn’t care.

He heads for the door, squeezing his way between the crowds of happy students, laughing and drinking and excitedly discussing their plans for summer.

It’s hot outside, even after dark, summer already well and truly here. But Sehun feels cold as death when he spots a small figure hunched over on a low wall several feet from the entrance to the bar.

He heads over.

Junmyeon is bent forward his head bowed down towards his knees. Sehun crouches down in front of him and rests a hand on his knee.

Junmyeon starts, so hard that he almost loses his balance and falls off the wall, and Sehun has to grab both his legs to steady him.

Junmyeon looks up at him, and Sehun feels sick. In the slightly ghastly light of Junmyeon’s phone screen, which is still clutched in his boyfriend’s hand, Sehun can clearly see that Junmyeon has been crying.

Sehun has seen Junmyeon cry lots of times before. Junmyeon is, in a word, soft. He cries at movies and music he likes and pictures of his dog and pictures of Sehun’s dog; he cried after Sehun’s final dance performance and after the successful dinner with Sehun’s parents; he can cry at almost everything. But this, Sehun knows, this is different.

“What’s wrong?” Sehun asks, gripping Junmyeon’s leg. “Junmyeon, what’s —?”

“My dad knows.” Junmyeon’s voice is so quiet, Sehun has to lean up to hear him.

“He what?”

“He knows,” Junmyeon says. “My dad knows.”

“He knows —?”

“About me!” Junmyeon almost snaps. “He knows about me, about us.”

“Junmyeon, how —”

“Someone saw us together.” Junmyeon is shaking; Sehun can feel it where his hand is holding Junmyeon’s knee. Junmyeon pushes his fingers through his hair: “A friend of his — I don’t know which one, he has loads of business friends and people he knows that his parents knew when they came over from Korea and — I don’t know, someone he knows saw me, saw us. He said they were driving through here and saw me holding hands with a _boy_.” Junmyeon spits the word, the way Sehun is sure his father spat it over the phone.

But Sehun actually feels slightly relieved. “Babe, that — that’s nothing, it means nothing.” He squeezes Junmyeon’s leg. “Some friend of his saw two guys and thought one of them was you, what the hell does that prove? Just tell him it wasn’t you, tell him —”

“He took pictures,” Junmyeon says, his voice horribly flat. “This guy, this friend of my father’s. He took pictures of us.”

“He took pictures of us from his car?”

Junmyeon nods. “My father has them.”

Sehun feels ill. He and Junmyeon have never worried about anyone seeing them together around school, with Junmyeon’s family living well over two hours ago.

“I’m so stupid.” Junmyeon’s voice is shaking. “Some of his doctor friends come up here for conferences at the medical school; I remember when I was still in high school my dad even came up here… I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Sehun says automatically, but Junmyeon doesn’t answer.

Sehun tries a different tack: “Junmyeon, listen. Just some blurry picture from a car driving by — I bet it could be anybody; who knows if it even is us?”

Again, Junmyeon doesn’t answer. Instead, he swipes his thumb over his phone screen a few times and holds it up in front of Sehun’s face, showing him a message.

The first thing Sehun sees is the contact name at the top of the screen: ‘Dad.’ Then he focuses on the message itself.

There are several photos. Sehun himself mostly has his back to the car, although he recognises himself instantly — his t-shirt, the cap he’s wearing. He remembers this day; it was only last week. Saturday. They were walking into town to get brunch, a treat before the last week of finals.

Junmyeon is facing towards the camera, looking up at Sehun, eyes shining with fondness, fingers tangled with Sehun’s.

There’s absolutely no question that it’s Junmyeon in the photos.

The pictures look like they can only have been taken from a few feet away at most. Sehun feels chills all over his body at the thought of this person, this total stranger, creeping by in their car snapping photos of them like they were doing something illicit and scandalous, while they were oblivious and happy, while Junmyeon was laughing and holding his hand and looking up at him with those bright eyes.

“Shit. Junmyeon —”

“He said I’m sick in the head and I need help,” Junmyeon says, his voice starting to rise. “He said being up here, being in California, must have made me crazy.” Junmyeon’s voice continues to get louder, get higher, hurtling towards a scream: “He says he’s coming up tomorrow to get me and I’m going straight to a doctor and he said I have to transfer to a school back home —”

“No.”

“— he said I can’t come back, Sehun, he’s coming to get me tomorrow and I can’t —”

Sehun seizes hold of Junmyeon, dragging him down off the wall and into his arms. Junmyeon crumples forward onto Sehun’s lap.

“I won’t let him,” Sehun promises wildly.

Junmyeon starts to cry again, and it’s the worst thing Sehun’s ever seen, ever heard: Junmyeon’s face twisted and broken up like a crushed piece of paper, and he’s making the most terrible, painful, broken noises, like an animal in captivity.

People walking by are staring, but Sehun doesn’t care; he couldn’t care any less if he tried. His own eyes burning, he struggles to pull Junmyeon in, closer than closer than close.

Junmyeon’s head ends up buried in Sehun’s neck, his arms and legs wrapped around Sehun’s body like a monkey. Sehun holds him, holds him, holds him, rocks him and kisses the top of his head and runs his fingers through Junmyeon’s hair. “I love you,” he tells Junmyeon. “I love you, I love you.”

Junmyeon’s fingers fist in the back of Sehun’s t-shirt.

 

*

 

Sehun wakes up very early the next morning, so early the light outside the window is still grey. Junmyeon isn’t there.

They’re in Junmyeon’s room, where Sehun had eventually helped Junmyeon back to last night. Sehun had tried to talk, tried to comfort Junmyeon — but what could he say? — tried to offer solutions — but what could he do? And anyway, all Junmyeon would do was shake his head mutely.

In the end, they’d spent most of the night lying on Junmyeon’s bed, clinging together, Junmyeon quiet and trembling.

Sehun had wanted to stay awake, feeling somehow that he needed to watch over Junmyeon, as though Junmyeon’s father — who in Sehun’s imagination had grown rapidly from a bigoted small-town family doctor into a towering, all-powerful monster — might burst through the door in the middle of the night and whisk Junmyeon away the second Sehun’s eyes were closed.

But some time in the early morning, Sehun must have fallen asleep, because there was a blank stretch of time in his memory, during which Junmyeon had, somehow, disappeared from his bed and from Sehun’s arms.

For a second Sehun almost believes that Junmyeon’s father has already come and taken him, and then he notices Junmyeon’s back pack on the floor, stuffed with school books, and he’s sure Junmyeon's father wouldn’t be keen on leaving those behind.

The door handle turns, and Junmyeon walks in.

He looks, in a word, awful, although Sehun still thinks he’s beautiful; he’ll always think Junmyeon is beautiful. Even now when Junmyeon is unshaven and pale-faced, with huge purple smudges under his eyes.

It’s still an improvement on last night, when Junmyeon looked terrified, shattered, helpless. Now, that’s been replaced by a grim, set jaw.

“You’re awake,” Junmyeon says. “I was just coming to wake you.” He comes to sit on the bed and lifts Sehun’s hand, kisses it, gently, as though everything isn’t falling down around them.

“What’s going on?” Sehun asks. “What time is it? What are you doing?”

“It’s 5a.m.,” Junmyeon says. “I’m packing.”

“Packing? Sehun repeats fearfully.

“I'm leaving.”

“What do you —?”

“I need to talk to Jonghyun,” Junmyeon says. “Last night, I couldn’t stop thinking I need to talk to him. He’s always helped me before.”

Sehun hates himself, because it hurts that Junmyeon has been thinking of another man and wanting his help rather than Sehun’s, and it shouldn’t, it shouldn’t, not in this situation, when their future, when Junmyeon’s whole identity, maybe even his life, are in danger. “Do you want to call him?” he asks.

“No. I need to see him, in person.”

“Junmyeon, baby, he’s in California.”

“Yes, I know. So I thought, we should go, early, before my father gets here.”

“You want — you want to go to California now?” Sehun asks, bewildered.

“I have to get out of here,” Junmyeon says. He’s still holding Sehun’s hand. “If I’m still here when my father comes he’ll make me go with him, he knows exactly what to say to make me feel guilty, and then I’ll never be able to leave. I know I won’t, Sehun. I’ll be stuck with him forever. I have to get away now. I have to go see Jonghyun and talk to him.”

“How are you going to —?”

“My car,” Junmyeon says. He doesn’t use it very often, as the town is small and has good public transport it; it mostly just sits in the parking lot behind the dorms. “I can’t afford a plane ticket but I’ll just drive it.”

“You’re going to drive to California.”

“Yeah. You can do it in about five days, I looked it up. If I just head straight across the country and keep going until I see the sea again —” Junmyeon laughs softly. “Well, I should find it.”

“Junmyeon —”

“Come with me, Sehun.”

“Junmyeon, I —”

“I need you.”

 

This might just be the craziest thing Sehun’s ever done.

He has to be completely packed up before he can move out of the dorms and he’s barely started. His parents are expecting him home on Monday; he has a flight booked. In a week he’s meant to start his summer job at the dance studio back home, the one he’d fought so hard to get.

Then again, Sehun thinks, hadn’t he often thought that he loves Junmyeon so much, he wanted to do something huge, something crazy, because there was no other way to express it enough?

Sehun tears through his dorm room like a whirlwind, cramming everything into two bags in just under half an hour. It must be the fastest he’s ever moved at this hour of the morning since he was about three, he thinks, as he wrestles the last of his clothes into submission under the zip of his suitcase.

He stands up, does a quick once over of his room, and then hauls both cases out the door and locks up.

Students moving out are supposed to deposit their keys with the university housing office, but that’s on the other side of campus, and won’t even be open on a Sunday, so Sehun just sticks his key back under the door. He’ll probably get billed for not checking out properly, but right now he doesn’t care.

He hurries outside, using the door where he and Junmyeon first met back in January. It’s cooler outside now, with the sun still not quite up and the heat from yesterday finally having melted into the clear sky.

Sehun drags his bags round behind the dorm, to the parking lot.

Junmyeon’s car is waiting for him, the engine already running. Sehun throws his bags in the trunk and drops into the passenger seat.

Junmyeon is sitting bolt upright behind the wheel, gripping it so hard his knuckles were turning white, and for a moment Sehun thinks he’s going to call the whole thing off. But then he takes one hand off the wheel, and reaches out for Sehun.

Sehun squeezes Junmyeon’s fingers.

Junmyeon puts the car in reverse and pulls out of the parking lot.

 

For the first couple of hours, they drive in total silence.

Junmyeon seems unable to do anything other than focus on the road ahead of them, the white lines disappearing underneath the car, and Sehun himself is still too sleepy, and too in shock, to want to disturb him.

It’s extremely weird driving past all the familiar university buildings, the bars and shops on the blocks nearby, the subway station they always take to catch the train to go downtown.

Sehun sends his mother a text: _Junmyeon and I are going on a road trip. I won’t be home on Monday._

She doesn’t reply, but he wasn’t expecting her to right away; it’s still early.

Sehun pushes himself back in his seat. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but when he next opens his eyes, they’re out of the city, and the highway is lined by deep green trees.

Junmyeon is still staring down the road in front of them as though it’s challenging him to a fight, driving as though they’re being chased. His crooked front teeth are bitten firmly into his lower lip, and Sehun is surprised he hasn’t drawn blood.

“Hey,” Sehun says, softly.

Junmyeon’s eyes flicker over to him. He manages the ghost of a smile. “Hi.”

“You should have woken me up.”

“It’s early still,” Junmyeon says.

 _I didn’t want to leave you alone,_ Sehun thinks but doesn’t say. He does say, “Are you hungry?”

Junmyeon turns his head to look at Sehun then. He looks surprised, as though he’d almost forgotten food existed altogether. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, a bit.”

 

They drive through a Dunkin Donuts because Junmyeon clearly still doesn’t feel safe stopping. Sehun insists on paying, and holds Junmyeon’s sandwich as well as his own, lifting it up so Junmyeon can take bites.

About an hour later, Junmyeon’s phone starts buzzing. Junmyeon’s jaw clenches, so hard it looks painful, but when Sehun checks it, it’s a call from Jonghyun. He answers.

“Sehun?” Jonghyun sounds tired, and very confused. “Is Junmyeon with you? Why did I get an email from him sent at 4 in the morning saying he was going to come visit me?”

“It’s…” Sehun glances at Junmyeon, who looks relieved that the call isn’t from his father, but certainly not in any mood to justify his choices to anybody, even Jonghyun. “It’s a long story.”

Jonghyun chuckles at that. “Was he drunk?”

“No, uh… he…”

“I take it I can assume he’s not going to show up here any time soon?” Jonghyun says.

“Well, the thing is…” Sehun hesitates. This still sounds so nuts. “We actually are. Coming. To visit, I mean.”

“You’re coming to visit,” Jonghyun repeats, sounding baffled.

“Yeah.”

“Now?”

“Well, in like a week. We’re driving.”

“You’re driving to visit me? From the other side of the country?”

“We couldn’t really afford plane tickets,” Sehun says. “And Junmyeon really wanted to see you — it’s sort of an emergency.”

“An emergency? Is everything okay?”

Sehun glances over at Junmyeon.

“Is Junmyeon there?”

“He’s driving.”

“Put it on speaker,” Junmyeon says, still not taking his eyes off the road.

Sehun taps the icon on the screen of the phone. “Jonghyun, he’s here.”

“Junmyeon?” Jonghyun’s incredulous voice crackles through the bad phone signal.

“Hey, Jjong.” Junmyeon’s voice sounds very small.

“Sehun says you’re coming to visit?”

Junmyeon swallows, visibly. “Is it convenient?”

“It’s always convenient. You know that. I’m just worried about you; is everything okay?”

“My dad knows.”

Jonghyun curses.

“He said he’s going to come and take me out of school, make me transfer back home —”

“So are you — are you running away?”

Junmyeon glances over at Sehun again. “Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, I guess we are.”

 

“You’re sulking,” Junmyeon says.

It’s the first thing he’s said in nearly an hour, the first thing he’s said since they crossed the state line into New York and he spoke to the guy in the toll booth, softly asking if he had change for a twenty.

“I’m not,” Sehun protests. He isn’t. He hasn’t been. But maybe his face since the call with Jonghyun has given him away.

“Are you mad at me?” Junmeyon asks. “For making you do this? Would you prefer to go home?”

Sehun’s mother had called, earlier. She wasn’t at all happy when Sehun said he was planning to miss his flight tomorrow; that he didn’t actually know when he planned to be back home.

“No! Junmyeon!” Sehun isn’t wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here. “I want to be with you.”

“Then why do you look so miserable?”

“This isn’t exactly a happy occasion, Junmyeon. It’s not like we’re off on vacation.”

Junmyeon just looks over at him. “I guess —” Sehun already feels furious with himself, before he’s even said it.

“I guess I do wish I could help you. Without us having to do this.”

“You’re jealous of Jonghyun?” Junmyeon asks, sounding incredulous.

“I’m not jealous,” Sehun says. “But I don’t —”

“Jonghyun has a partner, he has for years.”

“You can like someone even if they have a partner,” Sehun says crossly. “I guess I just don’t get what he can do for you that I can’t.”

“Sehun.”

“Knowing your boyfriend has to go to another man for support is —” but before Sehun can finish, Junmyeon’s phone buzzes again and they both freeze.

“Don’t look,” Junmyeon says, but Sehun has to; he can’t stand not to. The caller ID reads ‘Dad.’

Junmyeon is looking at Sehun warily. Sehun wets his lips and nods, once. Junmyeon sucks in a breath through his nostrils.

Sehun throws the phone into the back seat of the car, where it buzzes a few more times and then goes quiet - but not for long. A few moments later, the buzzing resumes. Junmyeon screws up his eyes for a second.

“Do you want me to drive?” Sehun asks. Junmyeon shakes his head.

The phone has started buzzing for a third time.

“I need something to take my mind off it,” Junmyeon says.

They fall silent. The phone buzzes along in the back seat for the next few hours. They’ve reached Ohio by the late afternoon.

 

Junmyeon wants to push on into Indiana, but Sehun persuades him to stop and find a motel as they approach Cleveland. Junmyeon has been driving all day, and they haven’t eaten since the morning.

The receptionist at the motel is a skinny man who smokes the entire time he’s sorting out a room for them. It tickles Sehun’s throat and makes him want to cough, and he tries to suppress it, not wanting to look rude.

Junmyeon is waiting for him out in the car, sitting up in the driver’s seat and gripping the wheel and looking straight ahead as though he’s still driving. He has a heavy line etched in between his brows. Sehun wants to reach out and smooth it away.

Things have been a little awkward, since their almost argument over Jonghyun earlier.

They drive down the long line of rooms and park in front of their room door. The room is small and smells of disinfectant. There are, Sehun supposes, worse things it could smell of. The carpet and bed spreads are an ugly shade of green.

Junmyeon flops onto one of the two queen beds and closes his eyes. (“For two people?” the man at the reception had said, and Sehun had just nodded, distracted looking out the window at Junmyeon sitting in the car and trying not to breathe in the man’s smoke, and only afterwards realised the man thought he wanted two beds, and then he’d been too embarrassed to correct the mistake; wasn’t even sure if Junmyeon would want him to correct it, given his current mood.)

Sehun hesitates for a second, before going over and shaking Junmyeon’s foot, gently. He hates feeling awkward around Junmyeon. “Are you hungry?”

Junmyeon hums. “I can’t drive any more today.”

“We can order something.” There’s a bunch of flyers, mostly for fast food, spread over the top of the chest of drawers next to the beds. “Or I can take the car and go get something.”

Junmyeon opens his eyes at that and cranes his neck to look up at Sehun standing over him. “You aren’t insured to drive it.”

Sehun raises his eyebrows at him. Junmyeon drops his head back down on the bed, and lets out a low sound, almost a chuckle. “Okay, you’re right, yeah.” His eyes close and he falls silent.

Sehun shakes his foot again, but Junmyeon is clearly exhausted, not up to making any decisions. Sehun decides he’ll have to take charge. He uses the bathroom, relieved to find it’s relatively clean, and then heads back into the room, leaning over Junmyeon to grab the car keys from beside him. “I’m going out to get something to eat,” he says, softly, not sure if Junmyeon is asleep.

Junmyeon doesn’t answer — but when Sehun goes to stand up, Junmyeon’s hand reaches out, grasps his shoulder, tugs him back down. Junmyeon kisses him. It’s soft and dry and chaste, but it settles Sehun’s anxious heart some.

He finds a McDonald’s only a few blocks over, with a drive-thru, and heads there, not wanting to be away from Junmyeon for too long.

He wonders if Junmyeon will complain about the unhealthy food, but when he gets back to the room and drops the bags beside Junmyeon on the bed, the smell seems to rouse him, and soon he’s eating his burger and fries hungrily.

Sehun waits until they’ve finished eating, until Junmyeon is slurping the last sips of coke out from around the ice in his cup.

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says. “About earlier.”

Junmyeon looks up at him.

“About Jonghyun. What I said about Jonghyun.”

“Sehun —”

“No. I’m sorry. I know you and Jonghyun are really close and he helped you feel comfortable with being gay, and it’s not — it’s not fair, for me to feel angry at you, especially not now when —” Sehun’s voice catches.

Junmyeon reaches out his hand, across the space between the two beds where they’re sitting facing each other, and Sehun takes it.

“I understand,” he says. He runs his thumb over Sehun’s knuckles, once, twice. “It probably did seem really crazy earlier… maybe it is crazy.” He sighs. “Do you think this is stupid, Sehun? Should we just go home?”

Sehun grips Junmyeon’s hand, his throat tightening more than ever. He can’t speak, so he just shakes his head.

Junmyeon sighs again. His shoulder are visibly slumped, as though the weight of the whole world is pressing down on them, and Sehun aches to lift that weight.

“I don’t really even know why I want to do this, Sehun,” Junmyeon admits. “When I woke up this morning, it was early and you were still asleep, and I just started panicking, thinking about my dad coming to get me, thinking how I was never going to see —” Junmyeon’s voice breaks, painfully.

Sehun is up on his feet, across the space between the beds, before he even consciously decides to move, and in Junmyeon’s lap, his hands either side of Junmyeon’s face, his lips on Junmyeon’s lips, his cheeks, his jaw. I’m here, each kiss says. _I’m here, I’m with you, I’m here I’m here._

Junmyeon’s hands come up clasp the back of Sehun’s head, holding him in. “I couldn’t lose you, Sehun. I — I can’t.”

“You won’t,” Sehun promises, between kisses. “You’ll never — never lose me.”

“My dad —”

Sehun gathers him in, holds him close, strokes the short, delicate hairs at the nape of Junmyeon’s neck.

They stay that way for a long time, as the light outside grows dim.

Eventually, Junmyeon shifts, stretches, yawns with a slightly apologetic chuckle. Sehun brushes Junmyeon’s hair out of his eyes. “Sorry, I’m —” Junmyeon starts.

“Don’t be sorry. You drove all day.”

Junmyeon’s hands grip onto the back of Sehun’s shirt. “You’ll stay? Sleep with me?”

“Of course, Junmyeon, I —”

“I thought maybe you got two beds cos you were mad at me.”

“Oh, God.” Sehun starts laughing. “Oh, God, no, Junmyeon —” and he tells Junmyeon the story of the misunderstanding with the motel receptionist.

By the end of it, Junmyeon is laughing too, his real, natural, silly, high-pitched, perfect laugh, and Sehun, even knowing that Junmyeon is tired, that they’re both so so tired, can’t help kissing him, and the kisses turn into sprawling down on the bed, Junmyeon rolling on top of Sehun, his legs either side of Sehun’s hips, pining Sehun to the bed; Junmyeon’s breathing heavy in his ear.

“Is this okay?” Junmyeon pants, kissing Sehun’s neck, pushing his t-shirt to the side to kiss down his shoulder.

Sehun nods, reaches down to pull his t-shirt up and off, and Sehun sighs, almost groans, presses his face against Sehun’s chest, kissing the smooth skin, tonguing over Sehun’s nipples, trailing kisses down Sehun’s stomach to his hips.

Sehun gasps when Junmyeon rubs his hand over the already hardening bulge in his pants. They’ve done this so many times by now, too many times to even start to count, but every time it feels like it’s too much, too much to take.

Junmyeon unzips Sehun’s jeans, slips his small hand into Sehun’s boxer briefs, gently takes hold of Sehun’s dick.

Sehun moans, throwing one arm across his face. Junmyeon jerks him off in quick, short tugs, and it doesn’t take long before Sehun’s breath catches and he comes into Junmyeon’s hand, hips twitching against the bed.

When he opens his eyes, Junmyeon is lying beside him, cheeks flushed. Sehun feels bone tired, like he could melt into the mattress, like he could sleep for a week. Still, he reaches out a hand to Junmyeon. “Do you want —?”

Junmyeon presses up against him, one arm sliding across Sehun’s chest, pulling him close. “No, no, it’s okay. This is enough.”

 

*

 

Once again, when Sehun wakes up in the morning, Junmyeon isn’t there. As soon as Sehun sits up, however, he can see Junmyeon through the window, standing outside by the parked car. Junmyeon is talking on the phone.

Sehun assumes it’s to Jonghyun. He fell asleep in his jeans last night, and they’re cutting uncomfortably into his legs. When Sehun stands and pulls them off, the seams have etched their shapes into his skin, leaving him looking as though he’s still wearing a phantom pair of pants. Sehun digs in his suitcase, finds a fresh pair of jeans and a fresh t-shirt. He should take a shower, but he wants to make sure Junmyeon is all right. He slaps water on his face and heads outside.

As soon as he does, he knows Junmyeon isn’t talking to Jonghyun. Junmyeon has his hand over his eyes, pinching the skin between his eyebrows. He’s holding the phone slightly away from his ears.

“No,” Junmyeon says, as Sehun leans against the wall, waiting. “No, Dad —”

There’s the whine of an angry voice, like the hum of a mosquito, loud enough for Sehun to hear, from Junmyeon’s phone. Junmyeon winces, and holds the phone even further away from his ear. He notices Sehun standing behind him, and pulls a face, looking guilty.

“Are you okay?” Sehun whispers, but Junmyeon has already turned away.

“Dad — Dad,” Junmyeon is trying. The angry voice on the other end of the phone doesn’t even pause, jabbering on incessantly. “Dad. I’m not coming home.”

There’s a brief pause, the voice seemingly stunned into silence. Then the buzzing starts up again, even louder. Sehun can’t make out individual words, but he can tell from Junmyeon’s face that whatever’s being said isn’t good news.

Sehun almost wants to make a grab for the phone, but he knows Junmyeon wouldn’t like that, so instead he just holds out his hand.

Junmyeon takes Sehun’s hand, grips tightly. He blinks at Sehun gratefully. “I have to go now, Dad,” he says into the phone, and, ignoring the buzzing voice, takes the phone from his ear and hangs up.

Almost immediately the phone starts ringing, and Junmyeon groans.

“Turn it off,” Sehun urges.

Junmyeon hesitates, looks as though he’s going to say he can’t do that. He looks down at the ringing phone in his hand. Then, he holds it out to Sehun.

Sehun takes it and presses the off button. The screen lights up, and then goes black. In his imagination, Junmyeon’s father, who had seemed so monstrous, shrinks down into the size of an insect, and Sehun squashes him under one foot.

Junmyeon sighs, and leans into Sehun. “Thank you.” Sehun rests his hand on Junmyeon’s back.

“No problem. No problem at all.”

 

“I barely slept last night,” Junmyeon confesses over breakfast.

There’s maple syrup in the corner of his mouth, and he looks like a sleepy child. Sehun wants to kiss the smudge away.

“Let me drive,” he offers again, and this time Junmyeon agrees without any objections.

Junmyeon curls up in the passenger seat while Sehun backs out of the motel and heads back onto the interstate. Within half an hour, Junmyeon is fast asleep. Sehun glances over at him and sighs. But maybe this is what Junmyeon needs now — the knowledge, the physical feeling, of driving, of escaping, to be able to relax.

 

They reach Chicago by the afternoon, and Sehun insists they get out and stretch their legs. It’s partly for Junmyeon, but if he’s honest, for himself as well; Junmyeon’s car is really too small for him, even with the seat pushed right back, and he’s starting to feel like he’ll go cross-eyed if he stares at the road for much longer.

Junmyeon seems lighter after his sleep in the car. “Fuck, it’s humid,” he says when they get out of the car, but there’s some colour in his cheeks and brightness in his eyes.

They eat noodles, and take a walk down to the lake. The temperate dips sharply when they do, the wind coming strongly off the water, and Junmyeon wraps his arms around Sehun from behind. “You should stay warm,” he says, and Sehun’s chest fills up with love.

 

After their extended stop in Chicago, they only manage a few hours of driving that afternoon before evening settles over them, the darkness hanging low and heavy in the air.

Junmyeon has taken over driving again, but he’s already starting to look tired. He still seems more relaxed, however, and doesn’t object when Sehun suggests they find a place for the night.

The weather has grown warmer and warmer, more and more humid, as they head into central America, and as soon as they get to their motel room, Junmyeon disappears into the bathroom, saying he needs to take a shower.

Sehun turns the air-con in the room up high, and sprawls on the bed — the one bed; he’d been very clear this time; “one double bed,” he’d told the receptionist, daring her to say something, although she barely even reacted and Sehun had been left feeling rather silly.

He checks his phone, and sees a missed call from his mother. He should probably speak to her again, he thinks; she hadn’t been very happy with him yesterday. Sighing, he taps on the phone screen, chooses the call back option.

His mother answers on the first ring: “Darling. Are you okay? Your flight —”

“Mom… I’m fine. I told you, I wasn’t going to make my flight today.”

“I know, Sehun, but I wasn’t really sure if you meant it. You sounded so distracted yesterday, sweetheart. I wasn’t sure what was going on at all. I thought you might still come home today.”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Sehun says tiredly. The last thing he wants is to worry her.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Where are you?”

“In Wisconsin.”

“Wisconsin!”

“I told you, Mom. We’re driving to California.”

“You and Junmyeon?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I am; I promise. I know I missed my flight today, and I wish I hadn’t but — I need to be with Junmyeon. He needs me with him.”

“Is he okay?” Sehun’s mother asks.

Sehun pauses. He isn’t really sure that Junmyeon’s issues with his father are his to share. Then again, he doesn’t want his parents to worry about him, or about Junmyeon either, and this would help them to understand. So he explains, as briefly as he can, what’s happened over the last few days.

Sehun’s mother tuts. “That poor boy,” she says. “What is he going to do?”

“He’s not sure yet, Mom. I don’t even really know what his dad’s going to do. I don’t think he thinks Junmyeon is serious about not going back yet.”

“Is there anything I can do, Sehun?”

“No, Mom, thanks, but I just — we just need to do this.”

“Sehun, darling. There is one other thing…”

“The dance studio,” Sehun guesses.

“You did so well to get it,” his mother tells him. “You still have a week before —”

“I’ll see what happens, Mom. I do want to do it but… I’ll have to see what happens.”

His mother sighs. Sehun suspects she’s still struggling a bit. But she says, “Okay. If this is what you need to do, then okay.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“Call me again soon,” she urges. “Let me know if there’s anything you need. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hearing his mother’s voice always makes part of Sehun wish he could be a child again, young enough to crawl into her lap, have her hugs and kisses make everything feel better again. Now, for a moment, he wishes it more than ever. But he swallows and steels himself. He has to be strong for Junmyeon.

He stands, and goes to tap on the bathroom door. Junmyeon is still inside, and he can hear the shower still running. Junmyeon always teases Sehun about taking a long time in the shower — “how can you possibly need so many products?” he always says in fake amazement — but he can take just as long himself, belting out Korean ballads or movie songs as he lathers himself.

“Junmyeon? Babe?” Sehun calls through the door. “You want to order anything to eat?”

There’s no answer. Sehun knocks harder, in case Junmyeon can’t hear him over the sound of the running water. “Junmyeon?”

Still, no answer. Sehun presses his ear to the door. He can definitely hear the shower, but no singing, no sounds of Junmyeon moving around. Then, he hears a very faint gasp.

Shit.

“Junmyeon?” Sehun calls, banging on the door. “Junmyeon!”

There’s silence. Then, finally, finally, the lock on the bathroom door turns. Junmyeon, when he opens the door, looks tiny, even tinier than he usually does. His hair is wet and plastered to his head. The shower is still running behind him, forgotten.

Junmyeon is wrapped in a towel, gripping his phone tightly in both hands. His eyes are red, his lashes sticking together.

“Junmyeon, what is it?”

“I checked my phone,” Junmyeon says, in a small, far away voice.

“What —?”

“Thirty messages. My dad left… thirty messages. I shouldn’t have listened but —”

“Oh God, Junmyeon.”

“He said I’m a pervert,” Junmyeon says. He seems to be staring through Sehun, as though Sehun isn’t even there. “He said I’m sick and disgusting and I’m not a real man and…”

“Junmyeon, you can’t think —”

“He said I’m not his son any more.”

“Fuck.”

“He also said… he’s going to cut me off completely… I wouldn’t be able to finish school; he’s been paying for all of it… Sehun.” Junmyeon’s eyes suddenly focus directly on Sehun, pleadingly. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

Sehun has his arms around Junmyeon’s waist. Junmyeon sags against him, and Sehun realises that if he lets go, Junmyeon will almost certainly crumple straight to the floor.

“Junmyeon. Baby.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Junmyeon repeats, sounding terrified.

“Junmyeon, you can’t be thinking of going back —”

“No!” Junmyeon says instantly. “No. No, I couldn’t. Not now, not after —” His hand grips Sehun’s shoulder. “I couldn’t pretend. I’d go crazy. But I don’t —”

Junmyeon is shaking so much, Sehun is afraid he might not be able to support him. He guides Junmyeon over to the bed, helps him sit, hurries around turning down the air-con and getting Junmyeon a sweater in case he’s cold. The first thing he can find is his own college hoodie, but he shoves it over Junmyeon’s head anyway. Junmyeon looks a bit ridiculous, in Sehun’s huge sweater, with a towel around his knees like a strange skirt.

Junmyeon just sits in silence as Sehun rushes around him. Even when Sehun comes back to sit beside him, wraps an arm around his shoulders, Junmyeon stays silent, although he rests his head against Sehun’s shoulder, tucking it into the crook of Sehun’s neck.

They sit quietly for a while. Sehun can feel the water from Junmyeon’s hair seeping into his shirt, running down his neck, and it’s unpleasantly cold, but he wouldn’t dream of moving.

“I know it probably makes no sense to you,” Junmyeon says suddenly, as though there’d been no pause as the conversation at all, “But I just don’t — I don’t know what to do without my father. Without my family.”

“It does make sense,” Sehun assures him.

“I don’t even —” Junmyeon sighs and tries again. “I don’t even know who I am. Fuck, Sehun, I don’t even really know if I want to be a doctor; I never even questioned it; I just —”

Junmyeon is shaking again, and Sehun kisses the side of his head, then gets off the bed, crouches in front of Junmyeon, so that he can look Junmyeon in the face.

“Fuck him,” Sehun says. “Seriously, fuck him. What the fuck can he even do? He wants to cut you off, he can do it, loads of kids don’t even have parents who can help them pay for school anyway. You can take out loans, transfer somewhere cheaper if you have to. You can do whatever the hell you want to do, Junmyeon.”

“I don’t know,” Junmyeon says, weakly. “I don’t know, Sehun…”

“You can do whatever you want to do,” Sehun repeats, feeling it in his bones, wanting Junmyeon to feel it too.

Junmyeon is staring down at him.

Sehun gathers him in, holds him close, strokes the short, delicate hairs at the nape of Junmyeon’s neck. They stay that way for a long time, as the light outside grows dim.

Eventually, eventually, they break apart, but only ever so slightly, keeping each other within touching distance as they tug off their clothes and get ready for bed.

Junmyeon curls up — he always sleeps curled up, but this time he seems even smaller, like a hedgehog, curling itself into a tight, frightened ball. Sehun wraps himself around Junmyeon, covering Junmyeon’s small body with his own. He holds Junmyeon until he finally, finally feels the tension ease out of Junmyeon’s body, hears Junmyeon’s breathing even out. _I’m here_ , he promises silently. _I’m here, I’m here, I’m here._

 

*

 

Junmyeon is still very quiet the next day, but at least Sehun is pretty sure he slept last night. He doesn’t object when Sehun gets into the driver’s seat of the car. He leans his head against the window and watches the motel disappear into the distance, watches the trees and the houses and the road signs start to flash by.

“Thank you,” he says, about an hour later.

“For what?” Sehun asks.

“Everything,” Junmyeon says. “Everything, Sehun.”

Sehun takes his eyes off the road for just a moment, glances over at the passenger seat. Junmyeon is curled up again, still looking small, but there’s a little smile on his face. Sehun wishes he could do more, so much more than this.

“Any time,” he says, and turns back to the road, because Junmyeon’s face is making his heart hurt.

 

They stop for gas close to the border with Minnesota.

“I think we can easily get well into South Dakota today,” Sehun tells Junmyeon. “Then tomorrow we can head into Montana, and from there we go down through Idaho, Nevada and into California.”

Junmyeon nods. “Have you done this before?” he asks Sehun.

“I’ve been looking it up on my phone. What do you think Google maps is for?” Sehun tries a laugh, but Junmyeon doesn’t react; he just nods again.

“How many more days, do you think?”

“Two? Three? If we keep going like we have been and don’t stop for too long anywhere else.”

“I should let Jonghyun know,” Junmyeon says.

Sehun heads inside to pay, and when he comes back, Junmyeon is out of the car, leaning on the side and talking on the phone. For a second Sehun is worried, but as he gets closer, it’s obvious Junmyeon is talking to Jonghyun.

“He says he’s looking forward to meeting you,” Junmyeon tells Sehun, when he hangs up.

“Me too,” Sehun says, and he isn’t lying; he is looking forward to meeting Jonghyun. He’s looking forward to reaching California, to seeing the ocean again; to putting ever more miles between them and Junmyeon’s father.

Junmyeon takes Sehun’s hand, and squeezes it. They’ve both become more careful, less obvious, as they’ve driven inland, unsure how people will react to them, but sometimes they need to touch. Sehun squeezes back.

“Do you want me to drive?” Junmyeon offers.

“Are you sure? I can —”

“You’ve been driving so much. Let me.”

“Okay.” Sehun squeezes Junmyeon’s hand once more, then heads round to the passenger seat. Junmyeon gets in beside him, and immediately starts pulling the seat forward. “Seriously, Sehun. How tall are you?”

Sehun is startled for a moment, not really expecting Junmyeon to make a joke. But Junmyeon is smiling at him. It isn’t as big as his usual smile, but his crooked front teeth stick out over his lower lip.

“I’m not that tall,” Sehun says. “You’re just exceptionally small.”

Junmyeon shoves his shoulder, fondly.

 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says.

They’re driving through South Dakota. Sehun is thinking he’d like to find something to eat, but they seem to be in the middle of nowhere. Long grass blows in the wind either side of the highway.

“Mm?” “When did you know? That you liked guys, I mean?”

“Oh.” Sehun shifts back over in the passenger seat to face Junmyeon. “Since I was super young. My first crush was Robin Hood in the Disney movie.”

Junmyeon splutters. “Sehun, he was a fox!”

Sehun shrugs. “He had an attractive voice! So did Simba in _The Lion King_ , and —”

Junmyeon is laughing, really properly laughing. “Is there something I should know about you, Sehun?”

“Oh yes,” Sehun says sarcastically. “All this time, I’ve really been into animals. I’ve only been with you because your front teeth remind me of a rabbit’s.”

“A rabbit’s!” Junmyeon bursts out into fresh laughter.

“They do.” Sehun says. He reaches out and pokes at Junmyeon’s mouth, Junmyeon swatting him away. “See? Rabbit teeth.”

“I do not look like a rabbit.”

“It’s cute.”

“Stop! I do not!” Junmyeon is still laughing. It’s oh so good to hear him laugh.

“My little wabbit,” Sehun teases.

Junmyeon pouts at him, but then he sticks his front teeth over his lower lip and twitches his nose, and they both crack up.

“When did you know?” Sehun asks, after a few minutes.

“I don’t really know,” Junmyeon says. “I think maybe I’ve just always known? I mean… when I was little I thought I’d grow up and get married to a woman, but that was just because that was what I saw everyone else doing. Even when I was young I remember my friends saying girls were pretty, or saying girls were annoying and picking on them, and I just… I was just friends with the girls; I never really thought about it.”

Sehun nods.

“When I was about nine, there was this kid in my class,” Junmyeon says. “Kris. He was from Canada and he was really tall. He always got picked first in sports, even though he wasn’t actually any good at sports. He just towered over everyone else so he could always grab the ball from the other team.” Junmyeon chuckles. “I wanted him to like me so much. I just wanted to be close to him, to have him pay attention to me. One time he invited me over to his house for dinner and it was the best day of my life.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, of course, we were nine!” Junmyeon laughs again. Sehun never wants him to stop laughing. “He moved back to Canada at the end of the year and I was so upset. I told him I’d write to him every day. I didn’t, of course, I forgot about him by the end of the summer.”

“Of course.”

“He actually added me on Facebook at the end of last year. He’s still really tall,” Junmyeon says. “But when he did… I guess I thought about that year and I realised, I didn’t know at the time but I liked him so much. I used to get butterflies whenever he talked to me. I thought he was just my best friend. I thought it was normal.” Junmyeon sighs, suddenly sounding sad. “But it wasn’t.”

“Junmyeon —”

“I mean — I don’t mean it wasn’t normal. But it wasn’t what everyone else did. It wasn’t what other guys felt about their friends.” Junmyeon blows air out through his nose. “But I didn’t really know until I was fourteen and my friend showed me and some of other friends some porn he’d found on his older brother’s computer. It was this woman with a man on a bed, and they were all so excited about her body. And I just —” Junmyeon swallows. “The guy had such a big dick. And they filmed from between his legs, you were meant to look at him fucking the girl I guess but you could see —” Junmyeon is actually going pink. “—you could see his balls and his hole and everything and it _clenched_ as he was fucking her and I thought I was going to go crazy. I dreamed about it every night for the next week. I thought I must be ill. What kind of guys thinks about — thinks about that?”

Sehun rests his hand on Junmyeon’s thigh.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told this to. I didn’t even tell Jonghyun, I — I was so embarrassed. I can still remember it so clearly.” Junmyeon’s cheeks are still a brilliant pink, and he’s so, so precious, Sehun thinks.

“I guess that was it, yeah,” Junmyeon says, after a few moments, and Sehun giggles at him, takes his hand, kisses it.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says, and Junmyeon goes pink again, but he’s smiling.

 

They find a diner, stop for hotdogs. Sehun takes over the driving again, and Junmyeon gets his phone out, navigates them through the rest of South Dakota and into Wyoming.

They make good time, and by the evening they’re almost at the border with Montana. They stop at another motel, and once again Sehun makes sure to ask for a double bed. The receptionist raises his eyebrows at him this time, but Sehun sticks out his chin, and the receptionist doesn’t say anything.

They order pizza, and take it in turns to shower. Junmyeon hasn’t checked his phone again, or brought up anything to do with his father, and Sehun is glad he seems happier.

There’s an itch under Sehun’s skin tonight, something he’s been thinking of since their conversation in the car earlier.

When Junmyeon gets out of the shower, he pulls him down onto the bed, kissing him, ripping both their towels away. Then he guides Junmyeon to lie flat on his back on the bed.

Sehun kneels over Junmyeon, his knees resting on the bed either side of Junmyeon’s shoulders. He reaches down and grips his dick in his fist.

“Oh, god,” Junmyeon breathes, understanding. His breath tickles Sehun’s thigh and makes the tiny hairs there stand on end.

Sehun starts slowly fucking into and out of his own hand, rocking over Junmyeon’s body. He goes slow, just how he likes it, letting his thumb run over the head each time.

Before long, his breath is stuttering in his throat, and he lets out a low moan.

“Sehun,” Junmyeon breathes from underneath him, and when Sehun glances up, he sees Junmyeon is hard, so hard, his cock bright red and wet at the tip.

“You can touch,” Sehun pants, and Junmyeon’s hands immediately run up his thighs, fingers digging into the muscles.

Sehun keeps going, keeps jerking himself off, and Junmyeon’s hand comes up to play with his balls, rolling them and squeezing gently.

Sehun whines, pushing into his fist faster. Junmyeon’s hand slides up to Sehun’s dick, and he jerks Sehun off along with Sehun’s own hand, once, twice.

Then his hands are slipping lower again, to Sehun’s ass, spreading him open. “Fuck,” Junmyeon murmurs. Sehun can feel Junmyeon’s breath, hot against his entrance, and hears Junmyeon wet his lips.

“Come on,” he urges, jerking himself faster and faster. “Come on, Junmyeon, babe, do it —”

Junmyeon pulls Sehun’s ass back down onto his face, his tongue sliding into Sehun’s hole, and Sehun freezes, in a shock of pleasure.

Junmyeon spreads Sehun even wider, and Sehun trembles over him, moaning moaning moaning as Junmyeon’s tongue fucks into him, pulls back, licks slow slow slow then fast then slow over his entrance.

Sehun stretches forward, grips Junmyeon’s cock, swallows it, making Junmyeon jerk underneath him, his hips jumping.

“God, Sehun,” Junmyeon practically growls, and then he’s pulling Sehun down again, sucking gently at the sensitive edge of Sehun’s rim. Junmyeon’s fingers are digging into his hips, and very quickly it starts to feel like too much, and Sehun pulls off Junmyeon’s cock to moan, “Junmyeon, Junmyeon, babe, please —”

Junmyeon understands — he always understands what Sehun wants. He grips Sehun’s dick, jerks once, twice, and then Sehun’s coming all over Junmyeon’s chest.

Junmyeon licks him through it, keeps licking licking licking until Sehun is so hopelessly sensitive he has to beg Junmyeon to stop.

Junmyeon drops his head back onto the pillows, his breath still coming hard and heavy against Sehun’s leg.

Sehun stretches forward and takes Junmyeon’s dick back into his mouth, gripping the base, lapping over the head and then sucking, sucking, sucking, until Junmyeon falls apart, spills into Sehun’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says, as Sehun rolls off of him. “Fuck, Sehun, that was…”

Sehun wriggles around on the bed until he’s the right way round, until he can rest his head on Junmyeon’s shoulder. Junmyeon’s arms wrap around him, tug him in.

 

*

 

They head into Montana the next day, and then down, down towards Idaho.

They stop at another diner, one with an old 50s style jukebox that keeps playing Elvis songs. Sehun’s feet do a little secret dance in the booth to _Blue Suede Shoes_ , and Junmyeon beams.

 

Junmyeon brings up Sehun’s dance internship, later. “You really shouldn’t miss it, you know. I should have thought —”

Sehun bites the inside of his cheek. “Don’t. There’s still five days before I have to be back,” he tells Junmyeon. “I can at least get you to California.”

“Will you head back afterwards?” Junmyeon asks. “It’s such an opportunity, Sehun. You did so well to get it, baby.”

Sehun answers with another question: “Will you be okay if I head back once we’re in California?”

“I think I will,” Junmyeon says. “I think I will.”

 

Montana is beautiful, wide sweeping roads with mountains soaring into the sky in the distance, but the road quickly becomes hypnotic, boring. They pull over every hour or so to switch drivers, and haven’t covered as much ground as they’d like to by evening. Still, it’s only just after midday the next day that they cross the border into Nevada.

 

*

 

Junmyeon is happy, lively, telling Sehun they’re almost there — but it quickly becomes obvious that there’s miles and miles of flat, flat, flat desert they have to cross first. It leaves them subdued, driving determinedly but silently down the straight straight highway.

The sun blazes down above them. You really could get lost out here and never be found, Sehun thinks.

It feels like they’ll never get anywhere — but by evening, the map on Sehun’s phone is telling them they only have a few more hours to go before they reach California, so they agree to stop for the night and get up early the next day.

The motel they find is opposite a gas station and next to a casino. Other than that, it feels hours, even days, away from anywhere. The receptionist — a kind older woman with Dolly Parton hair — offers them brochures with the details of the shows that are on in Las Vegas.

The endless desert around them should make them feel vulnerable, but somehow, now it makes Sehun feel safe. Nobody could come anywhere near them here without being seen miles away. They’re really, truly isolated, cut off from the whole world.

They eat in the motel room, hotdogs and chips from the gas station.

When the sun starts to set, it lights up the entire sky brilliantly, dyeing the horizon pink and orange. Junmyeon gasps and squeezes Sehun’s hand.

They hurry outside, and stay there until the sun disappears, the last bands of gold disappearing below the curve of the earth and leaving pale streaks in the night.

“Beautiful,” Junmyeon says, and leans into Sehun’s shoulder.

Sehun thinks he could stay like this forever, eyes trained on the sky, propping up Junmyeon’s head, his body, with his own body. He’d support, lift, carry Junmyeon across the whole world, if Junmyeon asked him to.

Away from any light pollution, the sky is soon thick with stars.

“It's so weird,” Junmyeon says, “But I’m so happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”

Sehun wraps his arms around Junmyeon’s waist, and blinks away the blurring in his eyes. They stay outside for a while, gazing up at the milky sky.

But then, but then — maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s Junmyeon’s happiness, maybe it’s knowing they’re so close to California — maybe it’s none of these, or all of them, or something else entirely — Junmyeon kisses Sehun, and the kisses quickly grow deep, hot, desperate, and Sehun is pulling Junmyeon back inside, away from the desert, back into the safe haven of their bedroom.

Junmyeon lies back on the bed, sitting up against the head board. “Come here,” he says, and Sehun strips off his clothes, crawls up the bed, straddles Junmyeon’s lap, kisses him wetly.

Junmyeon’s hands trail down Sehun’s back as they kiss, down to his hips, gripping there. Being completely naked when Junmyeon is still fully dressed, the scratch of Junmyeon’s pants and shirt against his skin a constant reminder, makes Sehun feel dirty, makes him feel desperate, makes him feel like a slut. He rubs himself against Junmyeon, shamelessly, his dick dragging against Junmyeon’s t-shirt, against the bulge in his shorts.

“Eager?” Junmyeon murmurs in his ear, and he sounds amused, the bastard, but all Sehun can do is whine and nod.

Junmyeon’s fingers trail down Sehun’s ass, and he’s so, so, sure of himself like this. One finger slips between Sehun’s cheeks, brushes over the rim of Sehun’s entrance, oh so gently, just a ghost of a touch, a hint of what’s to come. Sehun gasps. “ _Oh_ — Junmyeon —”

“Lube?” Junmyeon asks, and Sehun nods furiously. He tries to clamber off Junmyeon’s lap, but his legs are already weak, thighs shaking from holding himself up, and he ends up rolling down the mattress, sprawling out across the bed, stretching down to fumble in his suitcase.

When he turns round, Junmyeon is touching himself, and he’s taken his shirt off, his impressive abs shifting ever so slightly under his skin as he jerks himself off. It makes Sehun’s mouth water, almost makes him want to rub against Junmyeon’s body and get himself off that way.

He half crawls, half slithers back up the bed, back into Junmyeon’s lap, kissing Junmyeon, wrapping one hand around Junmyeon’s dick with Junmyeon’s own hand. Junmyeon’s breath stutters against Sehun’s mouth: “Se—Sehun.” Sehun jerks him harder. Junmyeon groans, and pushes Sehun’s hand away. “Stop — too much.”

Sehun whines, pouting, and Junmyeon grips his ass, squeezes. “I thought you wanted to get fucked?” Junmyeon asks lowly, his voice almost a growl, and oh, fuck, it’s so hot how Junmyeon can do this, can switch from being sweet, soft Junmyeon into this strong strong man who can make Sehun melt, make his legs turn to jelly.

Sehun nods eagerly, and Junmyeon grabs the lube, pours it over his fingers.

He pulls Sehun back against him, so that Sehun is sitting in his lap, his legs either side of Junmyeon’s hips, spreading him open enough for Junmyeon to get access.

The first touch of Junmyeon’s finger makes Sehun’s hips stutter, his heart skip, and he crumbles against Junmyeon, leaning heavily into his body.

“Okay,” Junmyeon soothes. “Okay, I got you, okay, okay.”

Two fingers circle Sehun’s entrance, and oh god Junmyeon knows just how he likes it, knows exactly how to tease over his rim, to massage the muscle into relaxing; just how to dip just the tips of his fingers inside to give Sehun the barest hint of a stretch before pulling back, leaving Sehun moaning, clenching; just when to slide the first finger in, filling him up just as Sehun thinks he’s about to lose it.

The finger inside him slides in, and then out just enough for Junmyeon to add more lube, knowing they both like it wet, and then the finger is back, oh, pushing right inside, finding Sehun’s prostate and smoothing over it just right, making Sehun clench tight, his dick jumping and drooling over Junmyeon’s abs.

Junmyeon adds another finger, always knowing when Sehun needs more, making Sehun whine high in his throat at the stretch. He lets his fingers rest inside, letting Sehun get used to the feeling. It doesn’t take long: after only a few moments Sehun is pushing back on Junmyeon’s fingers, swivelling his hips — “Come on, Junmyeon, come on, come on —”

Junmyeon kisses down his neck, and Sehun is moaning over and over as Junmyeon fucks his finger slowly in and out, just how Sehun likes it most, not too fast and not too slowly, pressing against his prostate, spreading just enough to stretch, just right just right just right. “ _Junmyeon — fuck —_ ”

“More?” Junmyeon asks, and Sehun gasps, “Yes, yes yes yesyesyes —”

Junmyeon pulls his fingers out and adds — fuck, he adds four, Sehun’s eyes almost rolling right back into his head at how tight, how full he feels, just right just right —

Junmyeon starts moving the fingers, ever so slightly, but Sehun’s already seeing stars, so spread open on Junmyeon’s hand, wet and full and the incessant nudging on his prostate oh so fucking good, and his cock aching and dripping, pressed between his and Junmyeon’s stomachs.

“Oh god — Junmyeon — _oh god_ —”

Junmyeon just keeps going, harder, the slick sound of his fingers filling the room obscenely, but fuck, Sehun loves it, loves hearing how wet he is, hearing Junmyeon’s fingers fucking him, the sound mixing with his own moans, and he can’t he can’t —

“Junmyeon please — please I — nngghhh —”

“What do you need?” Junmyeon asks, and he knows, fuck him, Sehun knows he knows, but he always loves Sehun to ask.

Sehun swallows, gasps, pushes back against Junmyeon’s fingers, trying to take them as deep as possible, and moans, “Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me —”

Junmyeon drags him down for a kiss, his fingers tight on the back of Sehun’s neck. Junmyeon’s fingers slide out of him, leaving him feeling empty and spread open, but before Sehun even has time to wish them back, he feels Junmyeon’s hand, sticky with lube, at his hip, and Junmyeon’s other hand reaching between them, and Junmyeon is urging him to kneel up.

Careful, careful — always so careful — Junmyeon settles him into his lap, the head of Junmyeon’s cock pressing at Sehun’s entrance.

Sehun gasps at the feel of it, but Junmyeon knows, always knows, exactly what Sehun needs, and he doesn’t stop, his hand still steady on Sehun’s hip, using Sehun’s body weight to sink him down onto Junmyeon’s cock.

Sehun throws his head back at the feel of it, feeling flushed and delirious, fireworks exploding behind his closed eyes. Junmyeon keeps on sliding inside, so slow, so careful, and Sehun thinks he might lose his mind.

Finally, finally, finally, Junmyeon is fully inside, Sehun seated against Junmyeon’s hips, and Sehun throws his arms around Junmyeon’s shoulders blindly, burying his face in Junmyeon’s shoulder. He feels so full; Junmyeon so warm and hard and perfect inside him he can’t help squeezing down, once, twice, moaning as it pulls Junmyeon even deeper.

Junmyeon curses softly, wraps his arms around Sehun’s waist.

“Junmyeon — _oh — please —_ ”

And Junmyeon knows, Junmyeon always knows. Junmyeon pushes in, pulls out, and Sehun needs to lift himself in time with Junmyeon to give them more leverage, but he doesn’t know if he can, it’s too too too good. But then Junmyeon pushes in again, and Sehun has to move.

His thighs, usually so strong from dancing, feel like water, but he manages to raise himself up out of Junmyeon’s lap, until Junmyeon is half out of him. Junmyeon’s hips rise up to meet him, and he tugs Sehun back down into his lap, dropping him back down fully onto his cock, and Sehun lets out a wounded cry as Junmyeon so deep deep deep inside him. His thighs, his knees, are quivering, and he doesn’t think he can possibly move again — but he can’t possibly not move —

“Junmyeon —” he begs, brokenly.

“Come here,” Junmyeon murmurs. “Come here, baby.” He pulls out, and then he’s laying Sehun down onto the mattress, covering Sehun’s face with kisses, nuzzling their noses together.

He lifts Sehun’s thighs, oh so gentle; pushes one of Sehun’s legs up against his stomach, making Sehun moan softly at being spread open.

Junmyeon guides himself back, back, back inside, finally, and Sehun whines in the back of his throat, his legs trembling again.

Junmyeon fucks him, slow, sure, steady strokes; careful, careful, careful, just like Junmyeon himself, sweet and strong and careful. Sehun can hardly think, can hardly breathe, the pleasure building and building and building to a crescendo, like that, like that, like that Junmyeon right there right there there there there —

When it’s over, Junmyeon cradles Sehun close, brushing his thumbs along Sehun’s cheek bones, brushing Sehun’s hair out of his face, dropping sweet kisses to Sehun’s lips and cheeks and eyes. “I love you,” Junmyeon breathes, and Sehun’s heart aches aches aches. “I love you, I love you so much, Sehun…”

Sehun’s eyes burn, and he feels like he’s floating, like they’re both floating, up and away from the bed and the dingy motel room, into the galaxy of stars Sehun sees behind his eyelids. He holds on to Junmyeon, holds on, holds on, holds on.

 

When Sehun wakes up, it’s bright outside the curtains, the sun already high in the desert sky. He can hear Junmyeon in the shower, singing, “Let it go, let it go!” at the top of his lungs.

 

*

 

A few hours later, they cross the state border into California.

Junmyeon winds down the window and sticks his head out into the wind like a dog, smelling the air, and coming back in with his hair standing on end. Sehun laughs at him.

For the first few hours the landscape is mostly the same, deserts and distant, sunbaked mountains. But gradually, gradually the land is falling away below the wheels of their car, and they’re approaching the coast.

The road signs start to point to L.A., and Sehun had assumed they would head on past and on down, but Junmyeon wants to head into the city and visit Koreatown, he went there with his grandparents once years ago as a boy and he’d love to see it again, so they take a detour.

It ends up taking several hours, with the roads densely packed with cars, and Sehun getting them lost several times even with Junmyeon trying to read out directions from his phone, and they’re both snapping at each other by the time they arrive, but it’s forgotten as soon as they're out of the stuffy, tense air in the car.

They wander down the streets of Koreatown, Junmyeon hanging onto Sehun’s arm. Nobody seems to notice or find it strange. They eat in a little restaurant down a side street, and Junmyeon charms the lady serving them by speaking to her in his perfectly polished Korean. She pats him on the head and keeps bustling back over to their table, trying to insist they eat more, saying they’re too skinny.

One time, she bends her head down to Junmyeon and mutters in his ear, pointing at Sehun and then towards the till in the back of the restaurant, and Junmyeon bursts out laughing.

“What was that?” Sehun asks when the woman has hurried off to serve another diner.

“Her daughter,” Junmyeon says, nodding towards the till. Sehun glances over and sees a girl, only about thirteen or fourteen, carefully packaging up take-out orders for waiting customers. “She says she thinks you’re very handsome.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Apparently she wants to marry a man like you.” Junmyeon can’t stop laughing, trying to smother it behind his hand.

Sehun kicks him under the table, gently. “I would be a good husband!”

Junmyeon is still laughing.

“You’d definitely marry a man like me,” Sehun says, making a face at Junmyeon.

Junmyeon’s eyes are crinkled up into crescent moons, and he touches Sehun’s leg under the table. “I would,” he says, softly.

Sehun covers Junmyeon’s hand with his own. “Me, too.”

 

After lunch they’re on the road again, heading out of L.A. They end up taking a road that goes along beside the sea and frequently gets them stuck behind tourists pulling over to admire the views, but it doesn’t matter. A few times, Sehun even pulls the car over and they get out to admire the scenery too, Junmyeon taking photos on his phone as though they really are on vacation.

When the signs above the highway start to point to San Diego, Junmyeon calls Jonghyun and checks his current address.

It takes them another hour to reach Jonghyun’s, and the sun is already dipping below the horizon, the car headlights flickering on one by one until the road looks as though it’s covered by a flock of fireflies. But eventually Junmyeon says, “Here; turn here,” and Sehun off the highway, turns down a quiet road, pulls into a parking lot outside several stocky blocks of apartments.

“Jjong said we could park anywhere,” Junmyeon says, so Sehun does. When he turns the car engine off, everything suddenly feels very, very quiet.

Junmyeon leans over the gear box and kisses him. “Thank you,” he says. Then he’s getting out of the car.

Jonghyun lives on the second floor. He’s skinnier than Sehun expected, and only a little taller than Junmyeon himself. He and Junmyeon hug, and then Jonghyun turns to Sehun. “Sehun,” he says, and embraces Sehun too. “It’s so good to meet you.”

It is good to meet Jonghyun. He’s a comforting presence, with a soft voice and large, sympathetic eyes. He guides them into the flat carefully, as though he understands everything that’s happened over the past week, showing them where they’ll be sleeping — a walk-in closet with a blow up mattress, but Sehun is so, so grateful to see it all the same — and where they can wash up.

Jonghyun’s partner, Kibum, is still out at work. “You can meet them later,” Jonghyun says. “I thought —” He glances over at Junmyeon, inviting him to object “— I thought we’d just get an early dinner here tonight and you guys can sleep. You must be tired.”

Junmyeon squeezes Sehun’s hand. “That sounds perfect.”

Kibum arrives from work a few hours later, with pizza. The four of them spend the evening on the sofa, something on the television that Sehun isn’t paying attention to. He’s more focused on Junmyeon’s head resting on his shoulder.

Nothing’s really changed, except that now they’re on the west coast, not the east coast, but somehow Sehun feels like they’ve crossed a huge boundary, forged their way across an ocean, climbed an unforgiving mountain. They’re battered and bruised but they made it and somehow, somehow, Sehun thinks, wrapping his arm around Junmyeon’s shoulders and pulling him, everything’s going to be okay now.

 

*

 

Sehun sleeps in the next morning. When he wakes up it’s nearly midday. His back is sore from the blow up mattress, but his head feels clear. He hadn’t realised how tired he was from the past week until now.

He takes a shower. As he’s drying and putting on clothes, Junmyeon puts his head round the door. “Hey,” Sehun says. “How are you doing? You been up long?”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “A while. Jonghyun and I have been talking.”

Sehun holds out his hand, and Junmyeon comes to him. He fits easily, naturally, into Sehun’s arms, his nose pressing against Sehun’s collar bone.

“Are you okay?” Sehun asks, into Junmyeon’s hair.

Junmyeon takes a deep breath, and draws back, to look at Sehun.“Yeah,” he says, and then, “Yeah,” again, more definitely. “I think I am.” He reaches up to cup Sehun’s face, his thumb stroking along Sehun’s cheekbone. He pulls Sehun down for a kiss, soft and sweet.

 

Jonghyun and Kibum both have to work later, so Sehun and Junmyeon have time to themselves. They take the car and drive through San Diego, up the coast to Point Loma, where they can see out across the bay and over the whole city.

It’s very windy up here, and Sehun almost feels as though Junmyeon would get blown away if he doesn’t hold tightly onto his hand. Junmyeon appears to share none of these worries: he’s smiling. God, it’s so good to see him smile. His cheeks don’t look quite as full and round as usual — Sehun suspects they’ve both lost a bit of weight; they’ve hardly been eating consistently over the past week — but they’re scrunched up and shiny, and his eyes are squeezed into crescent moons, and his crooked teeth stick out over his lower lip.

“I have to tell you something,” Junmyeon says, as they drive back down into the city. “Jonghyun suggested I stay with him here for a while, just to get away with everything. And I think I’m going to.”

Sehun nods. He knows Junmyeon misses being at school here.

“You should get back. For your job at the dance studio.”

“I can stay,” Sehun says. Junmyeon takes one hand off the wheel and reaches out, rests it on Sehun’s thigh. Sehun covers it with his own hand.

“You shouldn’t miss that opportunity because of me.”

“Yeah, but —”

“I won’t be out here forever. I’ll only stay a few weeks, a month at most. Then I’ll probably head back up to school, see if I can get housing over the summer. Maybe I’ll even take your parents up on their offer to visit.” Junmyeon smiles, and Sehun smiles back. He doesn’t want to leave Junmyeon. More than anything, he wants to stay at Junmyeon’s side forever, though everything, whatever the world may throw at them. But he knows Junmyeon is right.

When they get back to Jonghyun’s, he looks online and finds a flight back home for the next day time. He calls his mom and lets her know, and she sounds relieved, but not at all mad. She asks if Junmyeon is okay, and Sehun says, “Yeah, yeah, he is.”

 

That night, Jonghyun and Kibum take them to a small hole in the wall in the gay quarter for burgers and beer. There’s a tiny man on a tiny stage doing spoken word poetry, spitting furiously into the microphone, getting whoops and cheers every time he talks about not caring what people think, about being yourself. People lounge against the wooden walls, lazily drinking, lazily enjoying each other, shamelessly.

Junmyeon nestles into Sehun’s side, and Sehun wishes things could always be like this: Junmyeon unafraid, everyone unafraid, just happiness and righteous anger and pride.

Of course, they have to leave at the end of the night, head back out into the night and the real world. But nobody stares at Junmyeon and Sehun holding hands; at Kibum’s dress and heels or Jonghyun’s pride pins, and it makes Sehun feel hopeful.

 

*

 

Junmyeon takes Sehun to the airport when it’s time to leave, Jonghyun and Kibum wishing Sehun goodbye back at the flat, letting him and Junmyeon have the last hour to themselves.

It’s only for a few weeks, a month at most, but saying goodbye to Junmyeon still feels wrong. Junmyeon feels so small in Sehun’s arms, and part of Sehun feels like he can’t leave, like he has to stay and protect Junmyeon.

But Junmyeon is smiling up at him, in spite of his shining eyes, and he cups Sehun’s face. “It’s only a few weeks,” he says. “At most a month.”

Sehun kisses him. “I love you,” he sighs against Junmyeon’s mouth.

“I love you too,” Junmyeon says. “More than anything. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I —” His voice breaks, and he leans his forehead into Sehun’s.

A tinny voice echoes through the airport, calling Sehun’s flight, and Sehun squeezes Junmyeon’s waist. “I have to go.”

“Only a few weeks,” Junmyeon promises again. They share one final kiss, and then Sehun heads down to security.

At the front of the line, just before heading inside, he turns to wave. Junmyeon is smiling at him, his cheeks bunched up, his eyes crescent moons. He looks as though he’s trying not to cry, but at the same time he looks happy, so happy.

Sehun blows a kiss and heads through security. He has to brush tears from his eyes as he gathers his things, tugs his shoes on after walking through the full body scanner, but it’s only a few weeks, he tells himself, only a few weeks.

All too soon he’s on the plane, and they’re taxiing out to the runway. As the plane pulls forward, as it starts to hurtle down the runway, Sehun closes his eyes, and thinks of Junmyeon: Junmyeon’s smiling eyes and round cheeks, his rabbit front teeth, his hand over Sehun’s hand, his body against Sehun’s in the heat of the central America nights, his high-pitched laugh and his low voice in Sehun’s ear — _I love you, more than anything_.

It’s only a few weeks, Sehun tells himself, only a few weeks and they’ll see each other again. The wheels of the plane leave the runway, pressing Sehun back into his seat, carrying him up, up, up, into the clear, bright air.

 

 

Fin


End file.
